


We were just kids when we fell in love

by felixfvlicis



Series: hp_may_madness [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Pining, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-31 14:30:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10901295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felixfvlicis/pseuds/felixfvlicis
Summary: Scorpius is fascinated with butterflies and flying. Draco can’t figure out why.(A ficlet in which Draco learns that Scorpius is every bit his son.)





	We were just kids when we fell in love

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd. 
> 
> This fic is part of a larger work for the [hp_may_madness](http://hp-may-madness.livejournal.com/) challenge over at LiveJournal. 
> 
> Click [HERE](http://hp-may-madness.livejournal.com/tag/author%3A%20felixfvlicis) to read more slash pairings. 
> 
> Updated daily during the month of May.
> 
> ♥

“Daddy,” Scorpius murmurs, tugging on Draco’s hand.  Draco stills and looks down at him, his light gray eyes sparkling against the sunrise.  He smiles, pushing a strand of Scorpius’s white-blond hair aside.  “When butterflies are in love, do they get humans in their tummy?”

Draco laughs, kneeling down onto the cobblestone street, resting his palm against Scorpius’s cheek, kissed by the autumn air.  “I can’t say, Scorp.  You’ve got the expression completely upside down.”

“ _I already told you, daddy,_ ” Scorpius repeats, huffing.  “It’s the butterflies.  I can’t see them, but I know they’re here.  I feel them.  Can’t you?”

Draco pulls Scorpius close to him.  “I -- I used to.”

“For mum, right?”

Draco swallows hard, shutting his eyes.

“Of course, for mum.”

“Anyone else?”

Draco sighs, willing himself not to think of the last time piercing green eyes caught his gaze at the Ministry function.  A slight tilt of the head, a single strand of dark fringe falling against his temple as he pushed his glasses against the bridge of his nose and stepped out onto the terrace, keeping the moon company.

He releases Scorpius from his grasp and shakes his head before rising to greet the clouds above him once more.

As they walk the cobblestone streets hand in hand, Scorpius digging his round nails into Draco’s palm, captivated by each window display, Draco feels the tension unravel from his shoulders.  The crisp autumn air mouths at his cheekbones and he’s reminded of the child he used to be -- longing to surrender to adventure’s whisper, flying through the clouds on his broom, fingers outstretched, reaching for the shiny golden marble that resembled a snitch.

While he’s been caught in the heady pleasure of reminiscing, Scorpius has walked to the opposite side of the street and his forehead is pressed against a windowpane.

“Daddy!  Look!”

Draco’s breath hitches and suddenly he’s behind Scorpius, gripping his shoulders forcefully.

“Merlin, Scorpius!  Don’t walk away from me, do you understand?  You could’ve gotten lost.”

“But, I only walked across the street.”

“Be that as it may, you can’t just go as you please.”

Scorpius sighs and hangs his head.

“Yes, Father.”

Draco cringes.  It’s like looking in a mirror, and he’s never felt more like Lucius in this moment.

“I’m not mad, Scorp.  You just scared me, okay?  You’re the most important person in my life and I don’t know what I would do if I lost you.”

Draco runs his fingers through Scorpius’s hair and smiles when Scorpius lets out a whine.

“ _Daaaaaaad_.  Stop.  And if you lost me, mum’s ghost would haunt you in your sleep.”

Draco chuckles.  “Right you are.  Are you just going to stand there with your forehead pressed against the glass, or would you like to go inside?”

The look Draco receives as Scorpius turns around reminds him that despite what he may think, he will never be like his father.

  
“I’m sorry, but we don’t open for another --”

Draco swallows, a heavy blush flooding his cheeks.

“Hi.  I know you’re not technically open but --”

Scorpius lets go of Draco’s hand and meets Harry’s eyes.

“Good morning, Mr. Harry!  Sorry about my dad.  I think he has the butterflies in his stomach.”

Harry crouches down so that he’s nose-to-nose with Scorpius, his lips curling upward at the corners.

“Butterflies, you say?”

“Yeah.  I asked him if he had them for mum.  And he said yes. _But then I asked him --_ ”

“All right, Scorp.  That’s quite enough.  I’m sure Mr. Harry has lots of things to do.”

“Actually …” Harry starts, rising from the floor and pushing his glasses against the bridge of his nose.  “I’d like to hear the rest of it.”  He whispers, slowly meeting Draco’s gaze.

Draco shakes his head, though he’s smirking at sunlight’s reflection in Harry’s glasses.

*******

“Do you remember that day?” Harry asks, shuffling his feet across the chilly bathroom tile.  He wraps his arms around Draco’s torso, smiling against bare skin.

“How could I not?  That’s the day I learned that Scorpius has a big mouth.”  Draco scoffs, though there’s an undertone of amusement in his voice.

“I wonder where he got that from?”

“Certainly not me.”

Harry laughs, the vibration settling against Draco’s spine, its thin strings mouthing at his shoulder blades.  “You’re joking, right?”

“Keep this up, and you’ll be showering on your own this morning.”

“Fine,” Harry teases, “Though I wouldn’t mind in the least if you watched.  Could be really hot.”

“You’re insufferable, do you know that?”

“Mmmmm,” Harry hums, surprised when Draco frees himself from his grasp.  His breath hitches as Draco digs his fingers into his hips and presses himself up against Harry’s body.  “Seems like you don’t --”

Harry whimpers as Draco’s lips brush his, willing himself to finish his sentence.  “... mind much.”

“What I mind, Harry -- is not being able to take you to bed -- properly.”

“Draco …” Harry whispers, pressing his forehead to Draco’s.  “It’s not that I don’t want to.  Because believe me, I do.  But … I -- I’ve never --”

“Shhhh.  Say no more.  Contrary to popular belief, I’m quite the patient man these days.”

Harry laughs, offering Draco a soft smile before kissing him once more.

*******

As the days grow shorter and the autumn breeze pushes them apart, levitating corpses beneath piles of newly fallen leaves, the knots in Draco’s chest become more intricately wound.  The rapid, steady flutter of the butterflies in his stomach slow, no longer able to fill the silence that surrounds him.

It’s Harry’s knock at his door, two days later, that pulls him from isolation’s clutches.

“Hi,” he murmurs, shoving his hands in his corduroy pockets, tentatively meeting Draco’s gaze.  His bright eyes holding the promise of spring against dusk’s backdrop.

“Harry,” Draco whispers, unable to do anything except step aside.  The room feels warmer somehow.  His pulse thuds beneath his wrist.

“Is Scorpius here?”

“Not yet.  Why do you ask?”

“I wanted to um,” Harry begins, trapping his bottom lip between his teeth.  “See if I could take him flying?”

The question hangs heavily in the air, like the sharp blade of a brand new knife, waiting for the right moment to sink its teeth into every living thing that remains.

“Flying?”

Harry nods.

“You’d come along, of course.  I mean, obviously.”

Draco swallows.

Harry fidgets, briefly, before he speaks again.  “Oh, god.  Nevermind.  It was a stupid idea.  I should -- I should go.”

Harry takes two steps toward the door before Draco’s hand wraps around his forearm.

“Stay.  Please.  I’ll --”  Draco pauses, lifting Harry’s chin with his fingers.  “I’ll talk to Scorpius.  If he wants to do it, we’ll do it.”

“Yeah?”  Harry asks, his eyes bright and hopeful.

Draco nods, pulling Harry close.  This time, when Harry opens for him, Draco realizes that _this_ is as easy as breathing.

*******

“Getting caught in a bloody rainstorm is not how I envisioned our first flying lesson to go.  What a disaster.” Harry confesses, the frustration evident in his voice.

“Oh, come off it.  It wasn’t a total loss.”

“How so?”

“Look at us.  We may as well be naked.”

Harry swallows, color flooding his cheeks.  He inhales and the room goes dark.  For a moment, everything is still.  On his exhale, subtle flames lick the shadows of their faces.

“Did you just -- ?”

Harry nods.

“ _Merlin,_ ” Draco breathes, startled at the resurrection of the butterflies in his stomach.

“Come here.”

As much as Draco hates commands, he obeys this one.  Eagerly.

“Draco,” Harry whispers.  His hair smells like crisp autumn rain and broom polish.  Draco breathes him in.  “Please.”

“Harry,” Draco starts, his voice tentative, laced with want.  “I want you to be sure.”

“It’s you.  It always has been.”

Draco clutches the soaked fabric of Harry’s t-shirt, pushing him back against the wall.

Before Harry can protest, Draco’s mouth is on his, and it’s more intimate than a Legilimens.  Draco’s secrets fall onto Harry’s tongue and dissolve into his flesh.

Harry moans, his fingers shaking against Draco’s hips.

“Don’t be afraid, Harry.  I’ve got you.”

*******

As dawn breaks on the horizon, Draco settles against Harry’s chest and smiles at the feeling of butterflies resting against his ribs, the rhythm of their wings mirroring his pulse -- slow, steady, constant.

Sated, his eyes flutter closed and he dreams.


End file.
